Dance With The Devil
by Alysx
Summary: A different decision, a different choice. Just a single divergence, and the wheels of fate spin wildly out of control. In which Sherlock is actually the Devil, just that he didn't remember it… till now.


"Wait! Stop Sam! She's tricking you!" Dean screamed as he watched his little brother fight the female demon.

Dean was a little too late as Sam overpowered Lilith, and with the last of his energy, Sam took her down. Dean was horrified as Lilith fell, blood slowly seeping out of her.

Ruby who had stood by watching the fight finally reacted. Her face broke into triumphant glee. "You fools! You really believed me, didn't you?" She laughed maniacally. "And with the last seal broken, our Lord will rise-". She didn't have a chance to finish her words, as Dean surged forward, stabbing her with the demon hunting knife that was given to them by herself. The irony was not lost of Dean as he pushed her now dead body on the ground.

"What the… Jesus Christ. What have I done?" Sam moaned as he realised Ruby's deceit, and him having been strung on by her all this time. He looked at his elder brother with beseeching eyes, hoping that he would have a solution to their impending trouble as always.

Dean having no answer, turned and stared at the fallen body of Lilith. The blood had slowly formed a visible pattern, which was becoming more prominent. Dean squinted at it. It seemed to be even glowing. The glow of the blood gradually intensified, and quickly overwhelmed the two brothers who stared on in horror.

And then there was a bright burst of a pillar of light, seemingly reaching for the skies. Unseen to all but a few entities, a sole bright light flew out from the cage opening. In a short span of a few seconds, it went far beyond the seas to another land. From the raining skies of London, it then crashed down into Baker Street 221B, right onto where one consulting detective was sitting.

* * *

In the beginning, there was only his Father and siblings. They were in perfect equilibrium, his Father created many different life forms upon the land, wherein his siblings took over and loved the creatures. Protected them.

He remembered that he was the second eldest, and the brightest among them. He was the light bearer, the Morning Star, the one who guided his many youngest siblings.

Of all his siblings, he was the closest to the other archangels. The four of them would often fly through the skies, sometimes reaching to the stars. They would leisurely explore the land their Father created, or stand tall in the clouds, leading hymns speaking of their Father's glory.

Sometimes, he would get indescribably bored. He would then create a little mischief together with his younger brother, Gabriel. Michael would always stare disapproving at them when they did that. Raphael would merely stand by and watch them amusedly. The duo would not be deterred and continued to play small pranks on the rest, often resulting in them snickering quietly while observing their target and laughing uproariously when their poor target fell for the trick.

While he might get bored occasionally, Lucifer confessed that he was content.

It all changed when his Father created his very last creation. The humans. He commanded his siblings to bow down and to love them as they did to Him. A single look at the humans was what it took Lucifer to be angered. The mindless little apes were bumbling idiots. While some of his siblings might be moronic at times, at least they weren't as dull as these hairless apes.

His pride refused to bow down to these lowly creatures. Ever.

Against his Father wishes, he gathered his like-minded siblings. They spread word and their ideals, showing how these new creations were flawed, amassing their brethrens. No matter how his Father petitioned, or how disapproving Michael was, or how his two closest younger brothers pleaded him, he refused to submit. With both sides unwilling to compromise, a war broke out. The long time peace and happiness was then shattered, just like that. Just when everything seemed bleak. When blood of his family had flowed like rivers, when countless bodies of his siblings piled up, God intervened.

His elder brother looked on him in pity as he was casted down to the bowels of the Earth by his Father, just because he and the rest refused to bow down to the humans. He screamed, and raged and protested. But it all fell on deaf ears.

Despite being stuck in the cage far below, he still retained his sharp mind and glib mouth. Often using whatever resources he could to stir up trouble, gaining his status as the prince of Hell. From enticing Eve to eat the forbidden fruit, to the creation of the first demon Lilith. He adapted to his situation quickly. However, he often still yearned of the past, when he was bright and free, surrounded by his siblings and the warmth of Heaven. More often than not, he was bored. Being stuck in a cage was all right for the first few decades, but as time moved by, it was so dull. There wasn't much he could do.

And then the visits started. His Father came by sporadically. The smarmy git. He expected his Father to come down to gloat, but all he did was to act disappointed, or reminiscence of past times, trying to entice him to repent.

Foolish. Why repent when he wasn't in the wrong?

He might seem rather irritated when his Father visited, but internally, he was pleased. It was the only sort of entertainment in the cage after all. It was also a chance for him to talk to his Father and convince Him to see in his point of view. Which was why he was extremely displeased when instead, his Father suddenly offered him an ultimatum.

"Live amongst the humans for one of their lifetime. During that time, learn from them and I'll let you out of the cage."

Needless to say, he very emphatically flounced to the other side of the cage and ignored his Father till he left with the stupid offer. But God had all the time in the world, so every time He visited him, the offer would be brought up again and again.

Lucifer couldn't take it any more after a millennia of nagging and snapped, agreeing to His terms. But not before making it clear that he was only agreeing because he wanted to get out of the cage and it was all so dull.

His Father merely smiled placidly, as though dealing with a rebellious child.

And thus, one William Sherlock Scott Holmes was born.

* * *

Sherlock felt very disorientated. One moment he was sitting on his chair with his fingers steepled, contemplating about the recent case. The next moment, his grace that was released from the cage crashed into him, returning him several millennia worth of memories as being Lucifer and his powers. He winced at the onslaught of memories, trying to settle and iron them into a coherent timeline in his mind palace. While the memories were rather surprising at first, it did explained many of his quirks and inability to get along with the rest of the world.

Not that he wanted to get along with idiots.

Sherlock's first coherent thought was glee at finally being out of the cage. Then it shifted to triumph as he could finally bring about the destruction of those silly humans. However, it fell short, as memories of the miniscule yet blazing human life he had lived started to float up. Those memories made him soft, though he would never admit it.

Starting the apocalypse seemed kind of dull and tedious now.

Faces of the people he tolerated, and perhaps liked, came to the front of his mind. Lestrade, Molly, Mrs Hudson, John… At the mention of his friend, Sherlock frowned. While Sherlock didn't care about most people and their opinion, John was his first ever friend. The only one who wasn't repelled away by his antics and stood by him.

Even gaining back his memories didn't stop the fondness he felt for his blogger.

Starting the apocalypse probably would be categorised under 'a bit not good' in John's book, and that's saying a lot since his friend had actually shot someone in cold blood for him when they first met. Thinking of his only friend's disapproving stare, Sherlock sulked. He decided not to start the apocalypse, Sherlock reasoned, and it's only due to it being insipid and dull. Definitely not because of John, nope.

This however brought Sherlock back to his current situation. Right now John was out to the nearby Tesco for grocery shopping. Extremely plebeian, but rather fortunate for Sherlock as it meant John wasn't here to witness the mini light show. But that still brings about the question whether Sherlock should inform John about this… minor change. While he decided not to start smiting anyone, this doesn't change the fact that he's still Lucifer now. Should he go back to Hell and continue to rule there? But it seemed less appealing than staying on Earth, solving crimes with his friend.

Dear Father, he was actually contemplating on masquerading as a human still.

Sherlock scowled and bet that his Father was somewhere laughing at him, of making the poor decision of having accepted His offer.

The sudden sound of footsteps up the stairs pulled him out of his rumination. A distinct lack of plastic crinkling sounds from the grocery meant that it wasn't John. Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he speculated about the identity of the unknown visitor. Slowly, the door opened and a familiar figure stepped into the room.

"You!" Sherlock registered the other person and snarled at him appropriately.

"I see that you're still same as before," the refined voice of one Mycroft Holmes cut through the flat. While physically it was Mycroft standing in 221B, the distinct heavenly light surrounding him cannot be mistaken.

"Michael," Lucifer hissed. "Why are you here? Get out!"

My- Michael smiled in his self-righteous way as usual. "The shockwave of your grace being released from the cage was felt. I came by to see how you were doing."

Strutting forward, Michael sat himself elegantly onto John's chair opposite of him. "I'm pleased to see that Father's plan has worked well and you aren't about to start another temper tantrum again."

Lucifer's face contorted into a sneer, rather irritated that his brother could still read him like an open book. "Better than being an obedient puppy. Abandoning your post as the Heavenly Commander, coming down to pretend to be my human brother just because Father told you to."

The tension in the room was high, atmosphere crackling and electrifying with grace. Both occupants sat in the centre of the room and stared down at each other. Their eyes were alight with grace, glowing unearthly. The lights started flickering and shadows of wings were cast ominously onto the walls.

Michael suddenly sighed and relented. He stood up, "I'm not here to fight with you right after you are released. John is accompanied by Anthea now and will be back soon." He turned to the direction of the door and started to make his way out. "Despite everything, it's good to have you back again, brother."

Lucifer huffed and glared daggers at his brother till he disappeared from his sight.

* * *

Sherlock was playing the violin when John finally reached home. He was worrying at the strings as he tried to figure out the best path to take within all the possible ones. While he could delude himself and continue his life as Sherlock Holmes, Lucifer know that the whole Heavenly Host sans Michael, plus any hunters will be hunting him down. Not just them, his army of demons will be looking for him to lead them to war too. The only good thing was that the Host didn't have Michael's guidance as well, as it seems that his elder brother was not very enthusiastic about the apocalyptic plan.

His train of thought was cut short when a steaming cup of tea was held in front of his face. Sherlock raised his head, and locked eyes with John. With Sherlock being able to see beyond the physical realm now, he took the liberty to observe his friend.

John predictably has a bright soul, his soul fidgeted about restlessly, as if waiting for the next adrenaline inducing chase. While there was some taint hovering about the soul, it was minimal and was not integrated with his soul like some criminals. Watching John's soul was rather therapeutic for Sherlock, there was a sudden urge to reach out for him, and to envelope his fragile yet beautiful soul within his own grace.

"Everything alright, Sherlock? You seem rather out of it," John stared at him with concern.

Sherlock brushed it off, as he put down his violin and took the offered cup of tea. Both men moved to their respective chairs and enjoyed the solace in each other's company.

"In a purely hypothetical situation, what would you do if given the power to destroy the world?" Sherlock blurted out.

In response, John blinked, a little startled about the sudden question. "For one, I would acquire a second fridge to separate the edible from the non-edible." He lowered his own cup of tea, "perhaps soundproof my room so I can sleep even with you prancing about in the middle of the night."

"Oh! A tracker on you so I know where you ran off to would be nice too."

Sherlock gaped at him, speechless for once.

John continued on, "after all, with the world destroyed, wouldn't it be boring since we can't solve crimes together anymore?"

Sherlock hid a small smile behind the teacup.

"Anything I should be concerned about?" John eyed him from his seat.

"No, nothing at all."

 _Where would I be without you, my blogger?_

And thus, even with the looming trouble for Sherlock and the many uncertainties he would face, he continued to calmly sip tea and chat idly with John in the warmth of 221B.

The world can wait.

* * *

AN: Have plans for a few continuations! Of course one sequel is of John finding out about it ;) welcome any feedback~


End file.
